


The Golden Sparrow

by edibleflowers



Category: Popslash
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 04:44:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joey gets an unexpected client.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Golden Sparrow

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in a future world where technology is a lot more developed and so are human attitudes regarding sex. Prostitution is now a valid and even honorable career choice in a society where sexually transmitted diseases have all been eliminated or are at least easily treatable and generally avoidable with vaccines. In this world, an escort may have a career well into their late forties or fifties depending on their physical appearance and personal choice. Once they "retire", they often continue to work in the guild in other capacities. The stigma of homosexuality is also no longer an issue, and escorts may have any clientele they choose, depending on their own preferences. Escorts are trained in many arts of entertainment and psychology as well as sex and can sometimes be exclusive companions for extremely wealthy patrons. All escorts belong to the guild which handles such needs as insurance, pay, union stuff, and also protects their rights as a group. Most escorts work in houses where as many as twenty escorts live at the same time. The house is owned by the guild and run on a day to day basis by a small staff (generally made up of retired escorts) who book appointments and take care of the escorts' personal needs. Most appointments are made in advance; the escort has the choice to accept or, if the client is too incompatible, refuse (one or two members of the staff generally screen potential clients and run ID/health checks; they then match clients to escorts by the client's tastes as well as the escort's). Escorts are free to date on their personal time. In essence, they have a job just like anyone else, except that they generally work nights and share their bodies with their customers. Clients pay for time spent with the escort. (And if this sounds in any remote way like _Firefly_ , congratulations, you get a cookie -- but it's not really set in that world. All hail Joss. *cough*)

Joey's chilling in his bedroom when the buzzer goes off. He swears and gets up, abandoning his book. He's supposed to be off tonight. He presses the intercom button and Georgia's voice sputters through, full of apology and a little frantic about the customer who's just shown up.

"All right," he finally says, more to calm her down than anything, once she's stammered out an explanation. "Give me fifteen, keep him on ice in the green room, I'll be down." He lets go of the connection so he doesn't have to listen to her babbling gratefulness, and, stripping his shorts off, hops in the shower.

Fifteen minutes later exactly, he's clean, dry, dressed -- the standard robe and linen pants, easy to get in and out of -- and treads lightly down the stairs to the green room. It's not really green, and it's more like a parlor, but it gained the name because someone who used to own the place did theater on the side. The kid is in there, a drink in his hand though he doesn't look like he's old enough for it. Actually, he doesn't look old enough to be here, but they check ID (along with everything else), so Joey shrugs it off. Some people look young all their lives. He gives the kid one of his patented lazy smiles, and the kid jolts up in his seat, nearly spilling his drink.

"You must be Justin, right? I'm Joey," he says, and offers a hand. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

The kid's nervous, that much is obvious, but he smiles, too, tentatively, as he follows Joey up the stairs.

In the outer room of his apartment, Joey gestures, narrating a brief tour. "There's the bathroom, and the bedroom's this way," he says, as he moves to the sidetable. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Does it cost extra?" the kid asks. Joey represses a smile; the kid doesn't look poor, but Joey'd bet he scraped up every last cred just to be here. In a way, Joey appreciates that. The kid -- Justin, he reminds himself -- is beautiful, certainly gorgeous enough, with his lean, lanky body, deep blue eyes, and a head of dark blond curls, that he could have anyone he wanted for his first; but he came here, saved his creds for an experience only the well-trained employees of the Golden Sparrow could provide.

"No, it's all taken care of." Joey lifts a bottle of cognac, hand pausing on the stopper. "Or would you rather have a beer?"

"Beer is good." Justin's tone holds something like relief, and Joey chuckles as he bends to open the mini-fridge. He removes two bottles and stands, taking up the opener.

"Gotta say, it's my preference too," he tells Justin, popping the caps off one by one. "But it ain't hard to develop a taste for the finer stuff."

"Maybe later," Justin says, with a wider smile. He takes the bottle from Joey, their fingers brushing as he accepts it, and Joey smiles and lets his fingers slide along Justin's palm once he's released the bottle.

"Maybe," Joey says. "Here, come on, have a seat."

* * *

Either Justin's nerves fade, or the beer makes him more voluble, but after a couple of bottles, he warms up, his tongue loosens, and Joey learns a great deal about Justin, from his college classes ("--professors are a bunch of fuckin' idiots," he says, "it's like they never get out and see what the world is really like") to his friends ("man, Trace, he's the best. The _best_ , you know? I'd totally do anything for him"), to his mother ("She's my momma, you know?" he says softly, to which Joey can only smile in response). After the third bottle, Justin pushes himself up off the loveseat and heads for the bathroom, and Joey chuckles to himself as he finishes his own beer. He's still on his first; he's become a master at drinking slowly, since he's not the one who's supposed to be drunk tonight.

Even if they only talk tonight, it'll still count as a night well-spent, Joey thinks. Sometimes they end up being counselors, a more physical equivalent of the bartender to whom a customer pours out his troubles. Comfort is a large part of what his guests pay for, after all, whether it's purely physical or an unburdening of troubles to a stranger who won't judge -- how could he? Joey's the last person in the world who could pass judgment on another.

Justin emerges from the bathroom with a smile, his cheeks a little flushed; he's discarding his denim jacket, finally, and Joey gestures to a coatrack by the door. "Thanks, man," Justin says, hanging the jacket up; he lingers, there, for a moment. "So, uh."

Joey raises an eyebrow, smiling gently; Justin clears his throat. "I was wondering, I mean, this is great, I'm really enjoying talkin' to you-- and I didn't even think we were gonna, so-- you know, I mean, I really wasn't ready for you to just--" He breaks off, the flush rising, and Joey's charmed by the innocence of it.

"I know some places are like that," Joey says, "all action, no talk. But I like to get to know a guy before we do anything. If we do," he adds, and sees the reason for the hesitation in Justin's eyes. "Sometimes that's not what's needed."

"Oh." The kid absorbs that for a moment, then raises his eyes, a startling blue, to meet Joey's again. "So does that mean we won't--? It's just that, I mean, I've been saving and everything--"

Joey stands, then, and Justin stops talking altogether. Joey's left his robe loose and open in front, revealing a block of bare chest.

"Of course we will," Joey says, "if you want."

Justin doesn't hesitate long after that.

\---

They move to the bedroom, and it's there, by the bed, that Joey kisses Justin for the first time. Joey knows some of his co-workers don't like to kiss; it's too intimate for them, too revealing. But Joey likes kissing. For one thing, it's fun, pleasurable and sweet; for another, it lets him get to know a client a little, and it allows them to warm up to him, if they're nervous or this is their first time here. Or first time, period, Joey adds to himself, closing his eyes as they kiss. Justin and he are nearly of a height, and the kid's lean body against his is warm, sweet; he can feel Justin quiver, just the slightest bit, when he locks his hands around Justin's waist, his thumbs stroking at the small of Justin's back.

"So what do you want to do?" Joey asks as they draw apart.

Justin manages a little smile. "Anything," he says, swallows. "I mean, I've-- I'd like to be fucked, really, that's what I kept thinkin' about, but I like this, too, and, you know, making out and stuff."

"Then that's what we'll do." Joey sits down on the bed, pulls Justin down with him. "Remember, I'm here to do whatever you want to do."

"So I could, I could fuck you? Or--" The kid's flush rises again, though Joey suspects the redness climbing up his neck is from arousal more than embarrassment. "I mean, I keep thinkin' about..."

"About what?" Joey touches the kid's face, cupping a chin soft with fuzzy beard. "It's OK, you know. You can tell me."

Justin swallows again, raising his eyes -- Joey would swear they've darkened perceptibly -- and licking his lips. "Want to go down on you."

Joey nods, captured by Justin's gaze. "If you think I'm gonna object to that, you're crazy." He pushes back, sprawling on the bed, legs deliberately spread wide; Justin inhales, then climbs up over him, a knee between Joey's thighs, hands on either side of his torso, and kisses him again. There's no shyness now, no hesitancy in his kiss, only demanding need. Justin pulls at Joey's robe, and Joey manages to push up a little so he can strip the garment off and toss it to the floor. His pants are next to go, and as Justin slides them down his legs and off, Joey's own arousal surges, jolts through him. This is a kink for him, though he's rarely mentioned it to anyone; his own nudity is something he's not self-conscious about, but it's strangely hot to be naked with Justin above him, still clothed in jeans and t-shirt and socks, mouth grazing over his belly, breath blowing hot on his erection.

When Justin's lips tease at his cock, sliding along the shaft and opening for the head, Joey revises his opinion about Justin's virginal state. He's definitely done something, because he knows how to play, knows how lethal the heat of his mouth is on the curve of an erection, and his tongue darting over the ridge of Joey's cock as he takes him in makes Joey groan and push upward, unintentionally, into welcoming heat.

He realizes all too quickly that he won't last long, not with the enthusiasm with which Justin goes down on him, and while he knows he can come again tonight, he doesn't want the kid pushing himself out of any sense of nobility. "Justin," he groans, and Justin responds with an encouraging glottal sound, humming, and Joey's lost in it, the throb of Justin's throat against the head of his cock is too much. He drops his head back, sinks his hand into Justin's hair, and lets sensation take him. Dimly, he thinks, the kid's got an incredible talent for giving head. He'd have a promising career here.

All too soon, it seems, despite his efforts to relax, he feels the pull of orgasm tugging at his balls, and he swallows a moan, grips at Justin's soft hair. "Gettin', gettin' close," he pants.

Justin looks up, lips glossy, and pulls off with a visible effort. "It's OK? If I swallow?"

Of course it is; Joey's tested regularly, and clients aren't even allowed in the door if their health exams aren't up to date. But it's charming, the way Justin asks, and Joey nods. "It's, it's fine with me, Jesus," he gasps. Justin laughs, lowers his head, and no sooner has he taken Joey's cock in his mouth again than Joey feels it boiling up, rolling through him, leaving him dazed and shaken, limp on the bed.

Justin crawls up over him, cat-that-ate-the-canary smile on his face. Joey hooks a hand over his waist and pulls him down, and Justin nuzzles a kiss on his cheek. "God," Joey says. "I think I lost most of my brain cells there."

"Really?" Justin grins. "I didn't think--. Well, you know, you hope you're good, but..."

"You are." Joey turns his head, catches Justin's mouth for a kiss that's meant to be slow and lazy, but turns hot in only a moment; tasting himself on Justin's lips, he delves his tongue in deeper, and Justin gives a little whimper and presses up to Joey, all wired need and hot skin. He sits up, peels off his vintage t-shirt and tosses it carelessly on the floor; Joey chuckles as Justin attacks his belt buckle next, working at it with nerveless fingers.

"Man, take it easy. We got a little time before the next round, I can't get it up five minutes later anymore," he says.

Justin looks up, the flush rising again, but he finishes getting his belt undone and pulls his jeans open. "I, I didn't think you could," he says readily. "I was thinkin', um, I'd get myself off, and then when you're ready to go again, we'd both be ready."

Joey's smile is lazy; he pushes up one hand, taking Justin's arm and pulling him back down to the mattress again. "We can do that," he says. "But how about if I get you off, would that work?"

"Oh, Jesus," Justin says by way of response. Joey can't suppress his grin as he leans over Justin, their positions reversed now, and tugs Justin's jeans down until the curve of his erection springs free.

Joey enjoys blowjobs, giving as well as receiving, and with a partner like Justin who clearly appreciates the attention, it's a pure pleasure. The kid is exquisite under his tongue, quivering and sighing, half-mumbling a constant encouragement; Joey pauses at one point to listen, but it's nothing more than, "Oh, God-- fuck, that's good, oh my God, I can't believe -- Christ, Joey--" so Joey just smiles to himself and goes back to driving Justin crazy.

It doesn't take long for him, either, once Joey's settled to steady sucking, swallowing Justin's fat erection deep into his mouth; Justin yelps, cries out, rocks up all at once, and Joey gulps hard to get the head of Justin's cock into his throat bare moments before Justin's orgasm spasms out of him.

Joey sits back on his heels and wipes his mouth, watching Justin's chest heave as he sucks in air. Damn, but the kid's gorgeous; Joey chuckles to himself, makes a mental note to thank Georgia for talking him into taking a last-minute client tonight. "Be right back," he murmurs; Justin nods, mouth open, still dazed. Joey slips off the bed and treads naked to the other room, availing himself of the bathroom quickly and then retrieving two bottles of water from the mini-fridge.

When he returns, Justin's breathing has eased to a normal rhythm, and he's rolled to his side, his dick hanging soft out of his open jeans, wiry dark hair shadowed in the opening of fabric. Joey swallows a little and hands one of the bottles to Justin. "How are you doing?" he asks, sitting down and uncapping his own water.

For answer, Justin grins goofily, breaking the sultry demeanor. "You gotta ask?" He pushes up to sit, legs crossing, and drinks thirstily, Adam's apple working in his long throat.

Joey chuckles. "Just curious." They drink their water in comfortable silence; Justin finishes first, sets the empty bottle on the floor, then rolls to sprawl on his back. With his arms splayed, his soft curls tumbled artlessly around his face, he reminds Joey of some big cat, lazy and sated, and Joey gives in to the impulse to rub a hand over Justin's flat, exposed belly.

Justin laughs a little, curling around Joey's hand, a shiver rippling through him. "Dude," he manages. His cock twitches: nice, Joey thinks. He's really going to enjoy this. His hand slides down, covers Justin's dick, which rises sudden and stiff at the full contact.

"You -- you gonna do something with that?" Justin manages shakily.

Joey grins. "Thinkin' about it." The way Justin slides so easily into arousal and need, his eager responsiveness; it makes Joey shake a little with want, too. "How about we get you out of these, huh?"

He lets go of Justin's cock; the kid mewls but raises his pelvis, and Joey slides the jeans down over narrow hips, off long lean thighs and knobbly knees. He tosses the jeans to a chair, plucks Justin's socks off as an afterthought, then reaches over to the nightstand, finding a bottle of lube in the bin of supplies he keeps there.

"Kinda nervous," the kid admits, as Joey spreads lube on his fingers. "I mean, God, this is really fucking hot, don't get me wrong--"

"It's OK," Joey murmurs. He sits next to Justin, one leg tucked underneath him, the lube in easy reach, and runs a glistening finger over the full line of Justin's cock, feels the muscle jerk in response. "We'll just take it slow and easy, make sure everything's good."

Justin blows out a breath. "It's OK, man. I'm good to go," he says, his voice broken, pitched low.

"Yeah? OK then," Joey murmurs, and slides his hand down, below Justin's balls, over the skin behind them, to the tight knot of muscle between his buttocks. The kid draws a sharp breath, lets it whistle out again. His legs are drawn up on either side of Joey's thighs, his body taut with an all-too-familiar tension, and his head is tilted up so he can watch Joey.

Truth be told, this is one of Joey's favorite parts. He knows a lot of people like to rush, to hurry through preparation so they can get to the penetration, but -- as much as he loves intercourse, which is one hell of a lot -- there's something incredibly intimate for him about getting a partner, male or female, ready for sex. The more prep the better, too, on a purely physical level, and Justin shudders when his finger slips in, rubbing warmly at the tense muscle before pressing in further, slow, slick, one joint popping in, then the next. Justin's shaking now, his head fallen back; he moans low in his throat. It's sexy as hell.

"Talk to me," Joey says, his own voice unexpectedly rough. "This good?"

"Kinda -- I mean," Justin swallows. "A little weird, but it's good, freakin' intense, please don't stop, I really--"

"It's OK," Joey says, softer. "I won't." He keeps pushing, steady, until his finger has disappeared entirely, buried up to the knuckle in Justin's body. "There," he says, and slides it back a little, works it in again, wrist twisting this time. "I know the feeling," he adds, almost conversationally. "Still remember my first time, thought I was gonna die."

"It's not," Justin breathes, gasps a little when Joey's finger sinks in again, easier this time.

"Not what?"

"Not my first time."

Joey withdraws the finger and slips it in again. Justin's body accepts him readily now, the parted muscle around it a little reddened with use, slick with lube. "Yeah? It's OK if it is."

"I promisssse-- oh, God!" A shout as Joey finds Justin's prostate, presses there firmly. Justin arches up, body taut as a strung bow, then drops back to the mattress again, mouth wide open. "Jesus fucking _Christ_ \--"

Joey hides a smile. He can tell a virgin when he's fingering one. But he lets it go, working back and twining a second finger alongside the first. "Gonna go for two now," he says, waiting on Justin; the kid nods, head pressed into the pillow, and Joey adds a little more lubricant before pushing in again, the same slow rhythm as the first finger, waiting patiently for Justin's body to relax.

"I'm dying here," Justin says at one point. "God, I want you to fuck me, Joey, please, come on, need you fucking inside me." Joey's moved on to three fingers by now, increasing their pace slowly, watching them slip easier and easier with each stroke.

He swallows. "I know, man, but you gotta be ready. It's worth takin' the time for, I promise."

"I'm ready now, believe me--" Justin gasps. "So ready, God, I don't care if it hurts."

There's a point where Joey knows it's time to take a customer at his word, and he nods fractionally, letting his fingers slide back. "OK," he murmurs. He does slick his cock up -- more lube is never a bad thing -- and the momentary pressure of his own fist makes him gasp; he hadn't exactly forgotten his own hardness, but he'd been so absorbed in getting Justin ready that he hadn't let himself think about it. "You want to be on your back, on your stomach? Or we could be on our sides and I could be laying behind you."

"Oh, my God." Justin groans, his eyes closing against the images Joey describes. "I just -- just like this for right now," he says, and tugs Joey down over him.

Joey nods -- he's saving his breath right now, knows he's going to need it -- and holds his eager cock with one hand at the base, finding the relaxed opening, sleek and wet, dark and hot, with the head of his erection. Justin gives a little shiver that seems to transfer into Joey's skin; then Joey rolls his hips just a little, lets the blunt, rounded head press its way into Justin's body. The heat of him can't be underestimated; the kid's skin is hot, his mouth open, gasping, and his big hands clutch at Joey's shoulders. "Ready?" Joey whispers into Justin's ear.

"C'mon," Justin says, half a plea, half a demand. Joey can't stop the low sound in his throat as he pushes in, lets himself slip in -- half an inch, then more, and Justin cries out, head arching back into the pillow. Joey drops his head and pushes home, slow but smooth, a tense slide that leaves him buried in impossible clutching heat.

"Please move," Justin whispers, his voice thready, raw with need. "Joey--"

Joey inhales and nods, and he lets his hips slide back, just a slick inch or so; then he rocks in again. The slightest motion tears a cry from Justin, whose head arches back, the long line of his throat showing white against the flush of arousal reddening his neck. Joey drops his head and puts his tongue there, tasting the saltsweet skin, and slips back, drives in again. The tightness of Justin's body sets his head spinning. Sweat drips off him; he could swear it sizzles when it lands on Justin's skin.

"Oh my God," Justin breathes, awed-sounding, stunned, over and over. "Oh God, oh God, oh--"

Every slow thrust is a degree easier; Joey can feel the gripping muscle relax from one moment to the next, and he paces himself accordingly, pushing a little faster when Justin's body eases a little, rocking a sudden deep thrust. An ecstatic cry bursts from Justin's throat and his hands find Joey's shoulders, nails digging into his skin. The pain is minor, but it sends a shock of pleasure through Joey. He groans, pulls back, thrusts hard again.

"Oh fucking -- yeah -- like that!" Justin yelps, so Joey gives in to the rhythm his body is demanding, sliding in deep, evenly paced thrusts, a little amazed at the way Justin's body takes his cock in. He holds still at the end of one thrust; it's almost enough to make him come, just like that, dense heat wrapped around him, but of course it's not his pleasure he's concerned about but Justin's, so he draws back and gives a series of quick shallow thrusts instead, and Justin gasps his name in a ragged tenor.

Reaching between their sweaty bellies, Joey catches Justin's erection in his fist. From the wetness he feels there, Joey knows it won't be long, and he gives himself over to the effort of bringing Justin to a mind-blowing orgasm. It doesn't take much time at all; a few more pounding thrusts in time with his fist speeding on the kid's stiff dick, and Justin arches up, mewls an urgent helpless sound, and comes all over his stomach. Joey has to bite down on his lip to keep his own orgasm at bay; it's hard enough feeling Justin's climax, the powerful grip and hungry heat, but watching him intensifies the arousal surging through him: the stunned pleasure on Justin's face, his heaving chest, the ripple of his body as tension relaxes, at last, into satisfaction.

"C'mon," Justin gasps, then, blinking up at Joey, eyes still dark. "You didn't--"

Joey manages a smile, nods, and inhales as he speeds his pace. He's had customers who, even after everything else, suddenly decided they didn't feel like dealing with Joey's orgasm, so he never assumes anymore; but now, he lets himself go, spending himself in a few rough thrusts that bury him deep in Justin's body, and the climax washes over him, leaves him limp and dazed.

He pulls back, slipping free of Justin's body, and sinks down next to the kid, heedless of the stickiness of their bodies. With one arm he gathers Justin in. "God," Justin gasps.

"You OK?" Joey murmurs. He feels proprietary now, as often happens with virgins. The kid curls into his embrace; his eyes are wide and dazed, a striking pale blue. He nods.

"I'm just. Wow. I--" He breaks off, licking his dry lips, and raises his eyes to meet Joey's. "Is it always like that?"

Joey restrains himself to a tender smile, brushes a kiss over Justin's forehead. "If I can help it, yeah. Helps to have a good partner."

Justin shivers and nods. "That. Wow." He laughs helplessly. "I think I'm broken."

Joey grins, then, in spite of himself. "You're here all night, right? How about we go hop in the shower real quick, get washed off, and relax for a while. Sound good?"

The kid nods again, and Joey smiles to himself as they climb out of bed, Justin a trifle gingerly. It's going to be a fun night.


End file.
